


Bissli

by LoveChilde



Series: Intercultural Snack Exchange [1]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 2, Community: purimgifts, Friendship, Gen, Snack foods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-23
Updated: 2013-02-23
Packaged: 2017-12-03 08:54:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/696519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveChilde/pseuds/LoveChilde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony and Ziva connect over Israeli snacks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bissli

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sandyk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandyk/gifts).



The first time Ziva returned from a visit back home, she came in with a sunny ‘good morning’, and threw a bright orange packet on Tony’s desk as she passed. She was tanned, the way people never got in DC, definitely not in winter, and far more cheerful than Tony was used to seeing her. 

“Welcome back, Zee-va.” He drew out her name, the way he usually did when teasing. “Fun vacation? Whatja bring me?”

“It was a very good vacation, and I brought you that. It’s bissli.” She pointed at the packet, smiling slightly. 

“Bizli?” Tony inspected the packet, then carefully tore it open. It contained what looked like uncooked fusilli, spiral-twisted pasta- or rather, baked pasta, dusted with something bright and orange. The lettering on the packet wasn’t something Tony could read, but he recognized Hebrew when he saw it. “This is what you guys eat in Israel?”

“Biss-lee.” She corrected his pronunciation. “It’s more or less the national snack of Israel. I thought you might like it.”

“Oh. Well, thank you, Zee-va. I appreciate that.” He pulled one out and studied it. “Smells...strange.” He threw it in his mouth and crunched a few times. “Hey, it’s good! I think I like this biss-lee thing.” 

“I figured you would. It’s junk food, and you like junk.” She winked. “Besides, the name means ‘bite me’. I thought it was appropriate.”

“Gee, thanks.” His smile turned into a scowl, but he didn’t stop chewing. “You want some?” 

“Thank you, that would be nice.” 

They shared a smile, and the bag of bissli, and things were back to normal, vacation forgotten. 

It became a habit, in the years that followed; Ziva would go back to Israel, for whatever reason, and she would always bring back some bisli for Tony. They tried different flavors: the first was grill flavored, which Tony liked, then BBQ, which tasted nothing like any BBQ anything Tony had ever tried, but was pleasantly smoky. The pizza flavor was a complete failure (tasted nothing like pizza), and the falafel flavored one didn’t win any points, either. Onion Tony could take or leave, and in the end it always spiraled back to the bright orange fusilli shaped grill flavor. They never offered to share the snack with the rest of the team, and none of the others ever asked. It was a Ziva-and-Tony thing, and that was ok. 

Time passed. Things between Ziva and her homeland became more strained, and she didn’t visit as often. In fact, at some point Tony noticed it was a full year since she’d last gone on vacation to Israel. He missed his bissli. He missed her smile when she returned with it, and he decided it was time to work some internet magic. 

“You lied to me.” He informed her three days later. She was in a touchy mood, it seemed, because she turned on him with a growl. 

“I do not lie to my team.” She said, which was in itself a lie and they both knew it. “What are you talking about, Tony?”

“Bissli doesn’t mean ‘bite me’. It means ‘my bite.’ So there.” He tossed her a bright orange bag, this one with English writing on it. She picked it up, frowning, and looked at Tony with wide, startled eyes. 

“You got me bissli? Where did you find it, out here?” 

“The kosher market in Silver Springs. The guy there is also the one who told me what it really means. Liar.” Tony grinned at her obvious pleasure. 

“I am not a liar. Another word from you, and I won’t share.” She was only mock-angry now. 

“Those are six-in-a-bag packs, if you eat it alone you won’t be able to fit into your kevlar.” He teased, and she threw a packet of bissli at him. They both laughed, and she was truly grateful, which made Tony feel all warm inside. For a while, things were really good. 

Then things got really bad. When Tony went to Israel, he bought his own bissli. When they went back without Ziva, the packet stayed on his desk, unopened, uneaten, silently accusing. One day he came back to his desk and stopped. 

“Who moved the bissli?” He shot the question at McGee, fast and angry. 

“Andrews, from Archives. He just wondered what it was. I told him to leave it alone.” McGee replied without a trace of mockery. Sometimes he just got things like that.

“Thanks, Tim.” The two men nodded at each other, and nothing more was said. 

When they rescued Ziva from Somalia, Tony threw out the packet before she returned. He didn’t want her to wonder. She knew too much already, anyway. 

When Eli David was killed and Ziva fell apart, Tony worried. He always worried when it came to his team, but with Ziva there was the extra note of ‘might go psycho killer just for kicks’, and also the fact that Tony just...felt differently about her. She was Ziva. She was Special. 

he offered to help. She refused, but thanked him. She wouldn’t let him come with her to Israel. He stewed in DC, worried. 

But when she came back, there was a family sized bag of bissli on his desk. And Tony worried just a little bit less, and smiled a little bit more.


End file.
